


Sarah's Ram

by joey



Category: Hebrew Bible, Jewish Scripture & Legend, Sefer Bereshit | Book of Genesis, מדרש | Midrash, תנ"ך | Tanakh
Genre: Akedah, Angels, F/F, Jewish Character, Judaism, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), attempted human sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joey/pseuds/joey
Summary: Sarah Imeinu's story about the Akedah (the binding of Isaac) and much about her life, told from her own perspective.
Relationships: Avraham | Abraham | Ibrāhīm/Sara | Sarah, Sarah/OC
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarah's life is relayed in Bereishit (Genesis) in chapters 11-23 (the end of parashah Noach through parashah Chayei Sarah), which is necessarily where most of this midrash takes place. I've left out some events and compressed or simplified others for the sake of the narrative - please read the actual Tanach, preferably with commentary, for the canonical story.

My name is Sarah. You’ve probably been taught about me your whole life, from the time you were a wee thing. Maybe your mother dripped honey over paper cut-out letters of the Hebrew alef-bet and gave them to you to taste, to teach you at three years old the sweetness of Torah learning. Perhaps you came to learning later, as an awkward gangly thing on the verge of pubescence, just in time for your bar or bat mitzvah. Or it could be that you didn’t learn about me at all as a child, or learned from our cousins the Muslims, or from the Christians who later came and interpreted our story a new way, and only later turned your feet to the _derech_ of Jewish education. 

No matter when you began, you would have read about me early in your learning… me, my husband Avraham, and our sons. We are your ancestors. I, Sarah Imeinu, am your Great Mother, as Avraham Aveinu is your Great Father. Welcome, my child. I wish to tell you a story today.

Oh? You know my story already? Perhaps, child. And perhaps… perhaps you do not know it as well as you think you do. Listen, then, and I will speak.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing you must understand is that Avram (not yet Avraham, that was later) was a difficult man with whom to live. Oh, he loved me, and I him--there was no question about that--but the man wasn’t often in this world with the rest of us. He tried, bless him, he really did try. But he was touched with madness, the way holy people often are, for El, his god, had chosen him as His mouthpiece and the recipient of His words. Mortals are not meant for such tasks; it takes a toll. Avram’s entire being, body, mind, and soul, were attuned to El’s moods and Voice. And if that meant Avram spent too much time in the hills, deep in conversation with the heavens… well, that was the price the rest of us paid for him being chosen.

It was attractive, you know. His zeal for El, I mean. It was all-consuming. He was the fiery young idol-smasher when I met him and it was easy to get swept up in his passion for the One True God. Avram was sinewy and rugged from years of hard work, his eyes smoldered like a banked fire, and when he fell into the rapture of talking with El, his entire body would sway like a palm tree being buffeted by the desert winds. He would stand planted on his brown feet, arms upraised, eyes shut tight and lips moving soundlessly, swaying, the very picture of a man overtaken by ecstasy.

I won’t lie to you: I was often jealous. If that El had been another woman, I might have had a chance to compete with her. But how does a wife compete with a deity?

I knew I stood no chance, that if I pushed Avram to choose between me and his God, he would choose El with no hesitation. So I kept my counsel and supervised the comings and goings of our tent, keeping his life in order while he worked his trade and spent hours with El. We do this so often, we women: trade years of our lives for someone else’s dreams. 

Would he had done the same for me, if I had been the one so chosen? If I had been a prophet like our descendant Devorah? I don’t know.

As it was, I and the other women of the tent continued making our offerings to the household gods and goddesses. I joined him in his worship when he asked, but otherwise kept to my own ways.

We were happy, for a time. For a long while, really. Although we had no children, I was well respected among our neighbors despite my barrenness. Avraham was eccentric, but he was tolerated and even beloved.


End file.
